Knots
by Clockwork Storyteller
Summary: Chiara Lovina Vargas and Julia Beilschmidt met in detention, in a nice Swiss boarding school. Somehow, key moments in their relationship involved knots. Some knots were easy to take care of, but others might never come undone. Nyotalia Prumano. [Completed]
1. In your hair

**Warning:** This story was a request for some heavy sadness. It will not have a happy ending nor will all the characters make it out alive.

* * *

**1. In your hair**  
_Dear Julchen,_  
_Just so you know, the school made me write this stupid letter. So don't even begin to feel superior or something that I am doing this. Just don't, okay? I really don't want to, but it's the only way to get the counselors off my back. I am supposed to write to you about how we met. Seems really stupid, we know how we met. But if it will shut them the hell up, I guess this is okay. Beats talking to the counselors about my feelings, I hate that._  
_Anyway, we met in detention. What a great place to make friends, isn't it? In case you didn't catch that because I am writing, that was sarcasm. Detention sucks and you are a terrible student if the detention staff has a special, reserved seat for you and the assistants make bets on what you'll be written up for next. I heard setting a trash bin on fire was one they expected you to get the first time I saw you. Really classy. What, beating up half the school not enough?_  
_It's funny now, because I know you, but back then I thought you were stupid, loud, egocentric, touchy, and just an all around jerk. I know you are not, and I am glad I was wrong. But don't you gloat about this, Julia Beilschmidt! I will not have you gloating day in day out about this stupid letter. So, I guess that is it? We met in detention, I disliked you and I was wrong about you? I don't know, hopefully this is good enough, I have no reason to be writing this anyway. Counselor is an ass._  
_Sincerely,_  
_Chiara Lovina Vargas_

* * *

Chiara Vargas was sitting in an empty table in the detention room. The disciplinary staff was making their rounds around the room, lecturing them all about the seriousness of an offense, but Chiara was not paying them attention. She had barely started school there, only to land herself in detention less than a week in. The Swiss boarding school accepted students from anywhere as long as the board and tuition was well taken care of. Chiara and her younger brother Feliciano had enrolled after the nagging from their grandfather that they needed a permanent place while his work took him around Europe.  
Being an expert on Ancient Roman artifacts had given Romulus Vargas an open door to working in museums worldwide, but it meant that when the responsibility of his two orphaned grandchildren had fallen into his lap, he had to take them out of Italy and into the world with him. The adverse effects of moving them around from too many places led him to decide on settling into Europe. He still traveled too much for his work, and once he found them their current school in Switzerland, he dropped them off with promises to visit whenever he could. Chiara had taken it worse than Feliciano, not wanting to start over in a new country without her grandfather. Of course, there were Italian speakers in Switzerland, so she did not worry too much about the language but what had her tense was the other students.  
She was going in for her first year of the preparatory division, right before graduating into a university track, while Feliciano was still in secondary school. They would not be in the same buildings, nor see each other except for lunch and extracurricular break times and this worried her. Feliciano was a friendly boy, but easily targeted for bullying. He was easy to scare and threaten, plus from her own experience in fights with him, he did not fight back. He ran, cried and generally preferred peace. If he was under any attack, she would not know. Besides that, he was the only family she had nearby. Without him, she felt alone. Though she would never admit it, she needed Feliciano to keep her grounded. His optimism always changed her views for the better and reassured her.  
On their third day of classes, she had gotten into a small fight with a Spanish student she recognized from someplace but could not recall where. They knew each other, but Chiara did not know why. When he greeted her with a tight hug, she had punched him in the jaw and asked that he get his hands off her. He had tried to give her a few kisses on the cheeks but she had shoved and kicked until a teacher saw and gave each of them detention. It was in detention that she had remembered his name, but still not entirely their relation.  
While avoiding his eyes and apologies, she had begun reading for her classes, doing schoolwork at the table and working on it carefully. She never paid that much attention to detail in her homework, but there was an hour to kill and she did not want to glance at him once. When she found herself out of work to do, she began watching the disciplinary staff. Once she had counted the number of staff members walking around, she changed her attention to a scruffy looking old woman sitting with her head down. The woman was in a student's uniform, but her white hair surely meant she was old, at least to Chiara.  
When the disciplinary staff leader slammed her hand on the table where the old woman was resting, Chiara felt sorry for her. Surely, she was in some sort of trouble for falling asleep on the job, or else she was not a disciplinary staff member and she should not be in the room. The old woman lifted her head and began arguing with the staff member about something that Chiara did not catch. Then, much to the Italian girl's surprise, the staff member gave the woman a little speech about getting expelled. The woman turned to reveal she was actually just another student, from the looks of it around Chiara's own age.  
She heard a long groan from behind her and turned. The male student sitting there was murmuring something about Julia about to get them all in trouble again. From the looks on the faces around her, Chiara guessed that Julia was a constant trouble maker, and that she had a tendency to take others down with her. Before she knew it, Julia was out of her seat, marching straight at her. Chiara swallowed hard and tried to look pleadingly at the staff, wordlessly begging not to get in trouble from this. Before Julia could do more, the timer rang and they were released. Chiara wasted no time getting out of there, not wishing to involve herself with a mischievous classmate and get expelled.  
"Hey! Hey! Hey! Chiara Vargas!" Julia called after her, waving something in her hand. This froze the Italian in place, how had Julia known her name? The object made her reach for her head and she realized she had taken her headband off. It was now in Julia's hands, the plastic glimmer of it catching her attention.  
"How did you know my name?" Chiara yelled back, not approaching. Before she got her answer, the student she had roughed up gently nudged Julia on the chin, another student running up and knocking their heads together.  
"You two promised me no detention today! We were supposed to marathon sad movies and make bets on who cries first! Come on, I have them all ready. Guys, you promised!" The newest member of the group whined.  
Julia shoved them off and held the headband out, "Want it or can I keep it?" Chiara was silent for a moment before looking at the other two.  
"Can she join us, Franny?" The boy she had beaten up asked.  
"Franny" looked thoughtful for a moment before shrugging, "Sure, Julchen seems to like her. Who is she anyway?"  
"That's my niece. Told you I had family in Italy. Her mother was my half-sister. Anyway, Julia stop scaring her and give the headband back." The boy folded his hands behind his head.  
"Here, Antonio's niece. Join us for movies? We made bets so, don't mind the extra stuff going on. Want to come?" Franny took the headband and gave it back, not wanting to wait any longer. Julia scoffed and dragged her along, "Who's _asking_? She_ is_ coming, I did not just give back a headband and break my own rules about hanging out with new kids for her not to come. I even learned her name, and you know I only care about people knowing mine."  
Chiara protested and tried to get Julia to let her go but she decided not to cause a fuss. One detention was enough for the day, she did not need another the next day. —-

"Am not!" François Bonnefoy tried again. Chiara was wiping away silent tears and she managed not to get caught as Julia and Antonio turned to her for a tie breaker.

"Antonio says he is not, I say he is, so is François crying or not?"

Chiara looked over at the red eyes and fresh wetness on the French boy's face. He was definitely crying. "Ah, my uncle says no, you say yes. Doesn't family come first?" Chiara tried slyly, receiving a response she had not expected. Julia grabbed her shoulders and looked her dead in the eyes, Chiara finally noticing that the Germanic girl had a strange shade of lilac or pinkish irises. She was not only an albino, she had horizontal heterochromia. Before she could feel nails through her uniform, she looked at Julia.

"Be honest here, Vargas. There's a lot at stake here." The albino girl was almost nose to nose with her, so Chiara moved away slightly and laughed.

"Fine, fine. Yes, François is crying. Let go now." Chiara huffed, her own hazel eyes looking apologetically over at the other two.

"I could kiss you. I owe you one. But shut up, I never do favors. So don't go bragging about it." Julia whispered in Chiara's ear. The younger shivered and pushed her away a little more. Did her uncle know he had such strange friends? She turned back to where the bets were being cashed out, in the forms of awful punishments for the losers. François had bet he would not cry at all during the last movie, while Julia had bet she would only cry if someone else did. Antonio and François had both bet wrongly on themselves and found the punishment for the final movie was a chocolate and pickle juice smoothie. Chiara gagged from the mere smell and Julia snickered. This type of fun was revolting to the Italian. She found Julia's calm reaction a little unsettling, as if this was simply a normal aspect of her everyday life.

Julia noticed and began distracting her with a long tale about herself and her life. Chiara tried to make comments or add in bits about herself whenever she found something they had in common but Julia did not seem to hear her words at all. She went on an on, until she realized her fingers had gotten caught in her long hair and yanked them out, taking with her a small patch of hair. Chiara finally noticed the girl's hair and grabbed the germanic's brush from her nightstand, beginning her self-appointed task to rid the other of the ghastly knots. She turned the other around and brushed as she listened, so focused on the long whitish locks that she did not notice her uncle and François looking over. Julia had a plethora of knots in her hair, and Chiara was determined to get them all out. Antonio and François meanwhile winked at Julia, who was turning pink at the feeling of someone caring for her hair. The shivers down her spine she could play off as cold from the window being open, but how could she explain her soft smile?

Julia Beilschmidt _never_ smiled.


	2. In your laces

**2. In your laces**

* * *

_Dear Julchen,  
Apparently the last letter I wrote you wasn't good enough. The counselors still want me in their offices, to talk or to write to you about it. They say they know I am bottling it all up and that it's bad for me. So, long story short, I have to write you another one.  
This one will be about the time in physical education. You remember, don't you? We were in the changing rooms and someone broke into your locker. They didn't even steal anything. You were pretty worried, though and I remember you freaking out about it. You were too distracted with your locker that you didn't even notice what they really had planned for you.  
You pissed off the wrong people, they made you worry about your locker and they __still __had something up their sleeves. I have no idea why I even stayed to help, maybe because they threatened to cut off all your hair and I had not just spent over an hour getting it untangled and braided to have my efforts wasted. Physical education is my least favorite class anyway. I guess it was distraction. Anyway, while we were standing, ready to run around the track for warm up, one of those kids tied your laces together, you would have hit pavement face first and gotten god knows what into your hair. I didn't even like you but the thought of my work going to waste makes my blood boil so much that I ran over there and stopped you, but you had already started running. So you landed on top of me, in front of over two hundred students. You tried to blame me for it, but I don't resent that. It seems sketchy, I don't really know you, you rubbed me the wrong way earlier, of course I seemed a likely culprit. I am so glad I was able to explain before your fist made it to my face, from the rumors about you, you have a pretty nasty fist.  
Anyway, THAT should be able to get them off my case. Don't you brag about getting another letter, I will not stand for it. And this is the last one, I am sure.  
Sincerely,  
Chiara Lovina Vargas. _

_Chiara scrubbed her face with her hands and groaned loudly. Out of all the sports lockers she could have gotten, she had to get 043, only a few lockers away from 047, Julia Beilschmidt's locker. Of course that had to be her luck, meet a strange albino Germanic girl in detention and instead of going weeks without seeing her again, the school manages to get them together and a locker set far too close to one another. Physical education was the only class they could have gotten together, since Julia was a year older than Chiara. The chances had been very slim, yet the school had managed to do it.  
Julia ignored her, however, which Chiara was thankful for. She was too occupied with taking all her things out of her sports locker. The Italian rolled her eyes and asked if she could braid the other's hair again, seeing as the braid from the night before was messy from having been slept on. Julia had given her a hum and she took it as a yes, proud of having tamed the hair she had gotten so angry about. Julia was moving around very much until Chiara sat her down on the bench and braided properly, trying the end off with one of the rubber bands Julia had pulled from the locker.  
"If they took…. if they took…" The snowy haired girl kept repeating, never finishing the phrase. It seemed she continued to find all her things, only making her more stressed. The more items she found, the lesser her assurance was that her locker had been broken into randomly. Someone was targetting something specific if they did not just grab everything. She got dressed, gave Chiara a little mumble of what sounded like a thank you and made her way down to the track.  
Chiara was already stretching before the class started, not wanting to pull any muscles during her first run and make a fool of herself. She saw Julia walk over to a teacher and admired the braid. It was a fishtail plait, and she was very proud of having done a great job on such long hair, with a fidgety subject. They were lined up to run when Chiara felt a disturbance. Someone was crawling, she had felt a leg against her own, turned and saw someone on the floor. She paid no more attention, thinking this was a late student sneaking into place. When she did not hear faint pats of someone dusting themselves off nor did she see a person pop up from the crowd, she looked again. This student was tying Julia's laces together, in a knot Chiara recognized. This knot would be loose enough for Julia not to feel but when she made the move to run, it would tighten from the pull. The Mediterranean looked over at the teacher's whistle, the silvery glint of it a telltale sign that it was making its way up to the man's mouth. Looking down at the track, she saw that Julia would hit hard asphalt face first and as the whistle neared the teacher's mouth, she made her way to Julia. The shrill chirp of the metal object set everyone off, including Beilschmidt, who had not noticed her. She fell on top of Chiara and swore.  
"What the fuck is your problem? We're running the track not tackling!" Julia growled, rolling off the smaller. She tried to get up but Chiara stopped her.  
"Wait, your laces!" The auburn haired girl warned.  
The albino looked and made a fist, lifting it up in the air, "You think this is funny? You had second thoughts about me hitting the pavement? Well fu—"  
Chiara shrieked, "No! It wasn't me! This big kid with light blond hair and… this really creepy smile!"  
"Braginski." Julia hissed, untying her laces. The teacher had noticed them and was on his way over, Chiara still on her back.  
"What happened here? Beilschmidt and…" He paused to check his clipboard, "You, Vargas! Explain this right now."  
"Chill, coach, I had my laces undone and I fell on her. I think I stepped on a lace and bam. Right into Vargas. Lucky she broke my fall. One scar on my face is enough, thanks." Julia answered easily, helping the other up and dusting them both off.  
"Be more careful next time, Beilschmidt, I will not have your carelessness injuring the other students." The teacher sighed heavily, going back to his post to take times of the runners.  
"Why didn't you tell him about the kid?"Chiara asked, starting to walk. Neither she nor Julia could run right away, their heart rates and adrenaline too high to be good for them.  
"First, because I thought it was you. Second, Braginski and I have a personal score to settle. I tell a teacher, he wins. We go way back to childhood. I swear I will break his nose one day, look what he did to my face." Julia pointed out a scar on her right cheek. Chiara lifted a brow and nodded, it was not a large scar but it was long. Whatever happened to make such a mark, she did not want to know.  
"Can't break his nose on campus though, can you? You'll get expelled and… then what will your parents think?" Chiara asked lightly, trying to reason with the other.  
"Parents? Ha! Lutz and I grew up with our grandfather." Julia snorted, but her face was slightly darker with pain.  
"Sorry, Feli and me too, except… I knew them. Feli was only a few months but…" Chiara stopped herself, feeling her chest ache, but again it did not seem as if Julia cared for her input.  
"Feli? What Feliciano Vargas is your brother? Kill me now, we're in-laws." Julia spoke, Chiara unsure if this was humor or dread.  
"In-laws?"  
"My brother made a friend, finally, and it has to be your brother. Happy day. You're what, my self-appointed bodyguard? Lutz makes a friend with your brother out of all people."  
"Excuse me? Self-appointed bodyguard?"  
"Why didn't you just let me fall then? You were watching out for me."  
"Was not. Just your hair, I am pretty proud of that braid there. Mess it up and I will kill someone."  
"Self-appointed hairdresser then?"  
"Ugh, why do I bother with you?!" Chiara darted off at a full run, slowing down when she was level with the Braginski kid. Beside him was a girl with hair like his but the length of Julia's and a bow on her head. She tried not to make herself noticeable, in case Braginski had seen her look at him. The girl and he spoke with accents very close to each other but there were differences, like when an Italian speaker from Italy and a Swiss Italian speaker talked. There was something there, but she was so preoccupied with identifying the accents that she nearly missed a part of the conversation that made her hair stand on end.  
"Brother, just cut off her hair. Nothing would upset a girl more than her long hair snip snip." The girl spoke flatly, holding her own hair out as an example.  
The one who was upset was Chiara, however, and she slowed down until she was level with Julia again.  
"The Braginskis are planning on cutting off your hair." Chiara informed, concerned.  
"Braginskis? No, Braginski is one kid."  
"The girl called him brother—"  
"Good old Natalya. Nah, her last name is Arlovskaya. Check this, their guardian is this guy they call General Winter back in Russia. He adopted three kids. Katya, Braginski and Natalya. Katya from Ukraine, Braginski from Russia and Natalya from Belarus. Only fucking sane one is Katya Chernenko but she's already an adult. We get the crazy set. Joy, isn't it? Anyway, about this hair cut. Did they say how much? I've always wanted short hair…"  
"Like hell you'll let them cut your hair! They're going to make a goddamn mess of it! I did not make that braid so they can hold it as a trophy. Got it?"  
Julia felt her face turning red as Chiara went on, trying to ignore the strange feeling overwhelming her. Someone cared about her hair enough to get this angry over the mere threat of it coming off. Of course, she figured there was some selfishness involved, as Chiara had been gloating about the perfect braid. Still, she was touched by the anger in the other's eyes. She told herself not to show it, since Chiara and she were definitely on bad terms. She would instead play the part of lukewarm interest in the other. Not even the slightest hint of her true nature would show in front of the tanned girl. None, she was sure of it._

* * *

_"You made a friend, Chiara!" Feliciano was laying back on her bed as she sat back against it. "And she's my friend's older sister! This is great! We could be like a friend family."  
"Not my friend, Feli. Anyway, how's school? Anyone bothering you? Do I need to punch some teeth out?" Chiara changed the subject.  
"Ah, there was this weird kid but Ludwig dealt with him. So, no. Did you know Ludwig knows how to kickbox? And, the Japanese kid has to know martial arts or something right?"  
"Feli, that's a stereotype. Don't believe all the movies you watch, not all the Asian kids know martial arts."  
"He does! I swear! I saw him with Ludwig, they were pretty good. Anyway, Ludwig learned kickboxing because Julchen made him. She was really hard on him at first, she's a rough trainer, but then he got better and he got big muscles and…"  
Chiara froze, not hearing the rest about Ludwig. Julia knew kickboxing then, so she was capable of breaking Braginski's nose. Did that mean she had to watch out for Julia's bad side? That uncompleted punch from earlier would have hurt very much then, the girl shivered. She knew how to defend herself well enough, but not against a trained fighter. The little she knew was from rough housing with her grandfather. The man could not, or would not, teach his granddaughter very much on how to fight. Feliciano would not want to learn, despite his childhood proving he could take on a large opponent well. He preferred peace, and passive approaches to life. Chiara would not stand a chance in a physical fight against the girl, so she decided to be friendly with the albino. _

* * *

_"Chiara braided your hair? Looks good. Maybe I can get her to do mine, a little change from this ponytail, no?" François mused.  
Antonio narrowed his eyes at the French boy, "Back off my niece. I do not approve of it. Now, Julchen, you said Braginski wants to cut it off?"  
"Yup, do ya even pay attention to me? God, Toni, I could hurt you. I am not repeating myself again." Julia sighed.  
"No, no. I have a point to make, if you would just wait. Braginski wants to chop off your hair and that pissed off my niece. You like it when she does your hair… she likes doing your hair. I say—"  
"Correction! I like it when anyone plays with my hair, okay? Erzsébet used to and I liked that, you two even play with my hair and I like it. It's not specific to Chiara so don't go getting stupid ideas in your thick skulls!" Julia interjected, glaring at the two boys.  
"Oh, please, you like it more when it's Chiara. I can see it in your face that you do." Antonio scoffed. As a response, Julia moved to the blond and began playing with his hair. Soft little sighs escaped the other and the lightest tinge of a blush made it to his face.  
"See? It just feels nice. It doesn't mean I have feelings for the person playing with my hair. Come on Franny, try to deny your face is as red as the roses you stashed under your bed." Julia rested her chin on the boy's shoulder, smirking.  
"Get off, will you? And how do you know about the roses? What the hell were you in my room for?" François sputtered.  
"I believe that's twenty Euro, pay up Toni boy." Julia grinned.  
"What.. what. What the hell, you two?" The blond hissed, confused.  
"We made a bet on whether or not you stash the secret admirer gifts under your bed and looks like Julia was right, you do." Toni shrugged, handing the money over to the girl. "Back to my niece. Do you like her or not, Julia?"  
"Excuse you. Julchen. And no! Not like that anyway, you're weird. What makes you think—"  
"You kept her headband, still on your nightstand instead of the trash bin. Whenever we leave something in your room, you toss it in the trash bin, her headband is not."  
"So I got lazy, big deal. I can toss it now, end of discussion."  
"You won't, you still haven't tossed Liz's hair clip from… was it… two.. three weeks ago?"  
"So I keep pretty hair things, big deal. I like them. Might use them on my own hair once I disinfect them. "You hate putting things in your hair." François pointed out, finally recovering from his distaste in their bet.  
"Well, maybe because we always do stuff that makes them fall off. Not my fault I am a girl with long hair and you guys like doing crazy crap. Tell you what, I'll give 'em back. Both of them. I will cut my hair off and this stupid ordeal will be all over, got it? We are not going to make me keeping pretty hair things into some metaphor for my feelings for someone. Besides, I toss your shit out because it's usually useless crap like gum wrappers or the pebble that was bothering you in your shoe or some class notes from two years ago that your asses are too lazy to toss on your own. These things actually have some value to the owners. Tell me you were attached to the broken pencil stub you left behind yesterday or the fallen sole bit from your shoes. Or..." Julia began coughing, clutching her chest and reaching for her bed. Antonio was faster and got her the inhaler she needed.  
"Back off her for a bit, okay? We don't need her having an attack. Last time…"  
"I know, I know, François, I was there. Don't bring it up."  
Julia took a moment before smacking them both.  
"You two shits better not be feeling sorry for me or something. It's fucking asthma, thousands of people have it, all right? Don't throw me some fucking pity party over having gone to the nurse's office. I will kick the air out of both your lungs, kill you and run a marathon with your carcasses. Understood?" Julia snarled, tossing the inhaler back on her bed. "Better yet, a triathlon."  
The two boys nodded but did not return to the previous subject, Julia was getting worse. She had not lost her breath from arguing before. Only from extreme physical activity, like running up to the school roof, jumping down to the ledge and climbing down the fence to recover a frisbee. She had not quit the school sports teams she participated in, demanding herself to be strong. They worried over her, but she hated the fuss. Usually, they kept it to themselves and she did not find out.  
A knock on the door made them all turn. Ludwig was standing with Feliciano and Chiara in tow.  
"Um, there's no school tomorrow for renovations to the science building so… I came over. Ah, this is Feliciano and his sister—"  
"Chiara! Come in, come in. We were just talking about you."  
"Talking shit." Julia hummed, climbing on her bed and trying to hide the inhaler before Ludwig saw it. He worried too much about her, and he would call their grandfather if he suspected Julia was worsening.  
"Julia, you already made enemies with her? She and Feli have barely been here two weeks. Less than that, really, since they didn't get classes for a whole week."  
"Whole week off from school while the rest of us burn out our retinas trying to study. You're not helping your case, Lutzy, my boy." Julia answered lazily.  
"Cut the crap, Julia, you were just swooning over your future wife, here. Sorry, Chiara, but it's true. She was planning on asking you to marry her during the summer, Julia Vargas does sound lovely. Ah, yes, the wedding was going to be by the beach… on a sunset… perfectly aligned with the full moon. Oh!" François spoke dreamily, receiving a punch to the shoulder. "Ouch! Hey, sorry, I wasn't supposed to spill, but you know the French. Bad at keeping secrets from the opposite side and suckers for romance."  
"François, if you don't shut up I will—" Both girls spoke at the same time, stopping to look at each other once their voices registered with each other.  
Julia raised an eyebrow and Chiara rolled her eyes. Feliciano and Ludwig were both confused, but the small Italian recovered first and went over to Julia.  
"Julia, please do not hate Chiara. I know she can be mean and callous but she is actually really sweet and lonely. She could use a friend, and you are very pretty, I am sure she would like to do your hair. She likes braiding like the one you have now, and I know you will like each other if you try! You look nice too, even if you did just punch your friend. Chiara does that too, but punching someone you care about is not that bad because it's playful and I am sure you have more in common!"  
The more Feliciano spoke, the more Chiara wanted the earth to swallow her whole. Everyone was quiet, listening to Feliciano speak so honestly. The older Italian wanted to make a run for the door, but two people were standing there. One of them was the student from Liechtenstein who was in charge of the dorm floor and the other her older brother, the headmaster of the school. They had stopped by due to reports of Julia Beilschmidt having many people entering her room and an escalation of voices. They had assumed Julia was in some sort of fight, but once they realized this was simply a gathering of her friends —if they could be called that— the two blonds left. Their presence had deterred Chiara already and she felt that she would draw too much attention to herself if she left right now. Feliciano had stopped talking, Julia was silent and the two friends were whispering something to each other. Before Julia or Chiara could react, both their faces reddening, François and Antonio yanked Feliciano and Ludwig out of the room, closing the door and leaving the two girls alone inside.  
"Planning our wedding then?" Chiara spoke tentatively.  
"According to François" Julia responded, no hint of any emotion in her voice.  
"At the beach, during sunset on a night of a full moon, huh?"  
"Sounds tacky. What the hell is that, some soap opera finale?"  
"I kind of liked it. Except, why the beach? Why not a rooftop over a city. Berlin, maybe?"  
"What, because I'm German? That offends me. Why not lake Bracciano in Italy with the castle in the scenery, hmm?"  
"Not in the middle of the Colloseum? Where the fights—"  
"For a wedding? At least it would have a lot of space for all the guests… settle for the Eiffel Tower?"  
"No way! Big metal structure out in the city?"  
"What's the metal got to do with it?"  
"It might attract lightning!"  
"Are you scared of lightning?"  
"What? No! Why would you think that? Anyway, we are not getting married. We are not even friends, what the hell was that all about?"  
"Are you scared of lightning?"  
"The subject's changed already, what the hell were my uncle and the French guy going on about?"  
"Is it the lightning or the thunder, though?"  
"Answer me!"  
"I asked first."  
"I am going to leave."  
"They won't let you leave until we settle things out, they did this before. See that flower clip? Belongs to Erzsébet Hedáváry. Childhood friend of mine I came to meet again here, of all places, a Swiss boarding school. They did this to her too, so we have to settle. Are you afraid of the lightning or the thunder?"  
Chiara went over to grab the flower. She held it in her hands and looked at it for a moment, quietly ignoring Julia.  
"She, uh… is she the one dating Roderich Edelstein?"  
Julia's face changed, but Chiara did not notice. The albino did not really feel up to answering that question. It had too much emotional impact on her.  
"I drop the question about lightning you drop this one, deal?"  
"It's the lightning. Lightning is very powerful. It can down trees large enough to crush… cars." Chiara mumbled. Julia understood what that meant without asking more. Chiara was an orphan, she had known that already. Julia was too, in a strange way.  
Her grandfather had taken her in when her parents tried to give her up for adoption. Then Ludwig was born, they gave him up too. She couldn't understand why they had given up Ludwig, he looked nearly identical to Aldrich. Aldrich, the little boy who had been too sick to make it more than seven months. Julia remembered Aldrich, it was only after he passed that her parents gave her up for adoption. Then Ludwig had been born, and she was legally his aunt then. She had seen him after a few weeks, when the redness had completely gone from him and his features looked less puffed, he was nearly identical to Aldrich. A little bigger, less pale. That had been too painful and he, too, was given up. Grandfather had taken in Ludwig as well, disappointed in his daughter. Their parents were in a way, dead to them. The lack of communication had really severed any familial ties, making Julia mourn them. She returned back to Chiara, who was holding her headband tightly in her hands and looking down at the floor.  
"I am sorry about your parents. I won't ask anymore." Julia murmured, pausing before answering the other's question, "Yeah, Erzsébet was my childhood friend, ah, she and Roderich have been boyfriend and girlfriend a little over a year now. Um, I uh, I used to really like her. So…"  
"Not anymore? You two aren't friends?" Chiara asked lightly.  
"No, when I say liked I mean… romantically. So, I used to really like her. We were kids, I think I might have kissed her a few times? I don't know." Julia buried her face in her pillow.  
"Kissed, as kids? Wow… that's…"  
"Not that kind of kissing, stupid! This kind." Julia crawled out of the bed and kissed the tan cheek closest to her, then her forehead. After a moment of pause, she rubbed their noses together.  
"Those aren't—"  
"They're called Eskimo Kisses. So, those count." Julia argued. "Anyway, those kind of kisses. She thought she was a boy though, and I did too for a while. But… but then she moved back to Hungary. Didn't see her again until this place. Kind of a shock that she's a girl."  
"Couldn't you tell from her name?"  
"What, Erzsébet? Do I look like I know Hungarian to you? I figured it was like Ezra or some other strange name for a guy!" _

_"So, you don't like her anymore because she's a girl?"  
"I don't know… I mean… if I do then I'm… and if I don't then what was back then…" Julia was not completing her sentences, even in her mind she did not finish her thoughts. They hung there, hinting but not telling.  
"Possible you liked her because you thought she was a guy? Which makes you…"  
"Straight. But… why the hell am I telling you all this anyway? Get out."  
"No way, not until you've settled!" Antonio called, cracking the door a little. "You are going to settle this, that's my niece!"  
"Toni! I will kill you and run a marathon with your carcass did you forget?! You stop butting in and let her go already, I swear I will kill you both, you have me in here spilling my guts out to this near-stranger… I am not even sure how…" Julia erupted into more coughing, her anger making her breathing unsteady and her lungs still not fully recovered from the previous fit of coughs. She lurched forward and fumbled for the inhaler, Chiara's eyes widening as Julia coughed. She saw the object which the albino had hastily shoved under her pillow and moved her to get it in her mouth. Julia did not shove her away, instead clutching on to her and getting the inhaler in place, using it with a shaking hand. After a dose of the medicine, she leaned back on her bed. The two girls finally noticed the commotion at the door. Ludwig was trying to make it in to his sister's dorm, Feliciano scared in the doorway. Antonio and François were holding the concerned German back. Julia was leaning on Chiara, breathing shaky apologies and soft words of thanks. She regained herself after a while, catching the image of her brother struggling, and her friends holding him back.  
Once she had composed herself enough to sit up and glare back at the group, she managed to hiss, "Swear to me you won't say a thing to Grandfather. Swear to me, Ludwig."  
However, he was shaking his head and struggling to get to her. The other two finally moved away and let him through, seeing as Chiara was supporting the other girl and gently stroking her hair to calm her. They would have taken the chance to make some remark about love blossoming or anything along those lines but they felt this was not the time. The last thing they needed was a trip to the nurse's office now. _

_Ludwig looked furious. "You expect me not to tell him that you are getting worse? Julia, for heaven's sake! Don't be stubborn! You know the medication is not good enough, you need…"  
Julia did not let him finish, "No! I am not going to wear an oxygen mask for the rest of my life. Ludwig, I am fine. I can do sports, I can live my life normally! If you tell Grandfather and I have to wear a mask, and give up sports, I will never forgive you. Do you get that? Ever!" Julia shot back, Chiara holding her steady. She murmured something into the asthmatic girl's ear and Julia nodded, leaning back.  
The friends were looking at the unfolding commotion with sad looks on their faces, they would not admit it to her face, but they sided with Ludwig. If only they could get her to understand that. She began pleading not to be placed on an oxygen mask, gripping Chiara as she dissolved into tears.  
Julia Beilschmidt hated being reminded that she was physically weaker than the rest of the people around her. She felt that everyone pitied her because she was sick. If she coughed, people worried she might collapse. She did not want their pity, instead she began demanding attention by causing trouble. She wanted people not to look at her with worry for her health, but warily as if they were eyeing a chemical reaction that would break the glass. She wanted to not be reminded of her illness. She just wanted to be normal, one thing she would never be.  
The others left her to cry on Chiara, not really wanting to push another outburst from her. Chiara felt the weight of being left alone with Julia, as she realized the soft sounds were her murmuring in German. It sounded soft, light, scared not scary. Chiara awkwardly hugged Julia and spoke after a long pause, trying to make out anything.  
"Hey, so you really want to cut your hair?" The soft, melodic accent broke through the sobs.  
"Ye-yeah. A short bob cut, you know. Shorter than yours."  
"Ah, that's too short. I really like your hair."  
"You blind or something? My hair is fucking white. You have this… reddish brown hair, it's really pretty."  
"Eww, you like my hair? It looks like wet rust."  
"Does not."  
"Does, I would like hair like yours. It's soft, straight…"  
"I think that might be the only straight thing about me."  
"Pardon?"  
"Chiara, why are girls so pretty?"  
"I… uh… I don't know?"  
"Like Erzsébet… and Miss Vogel… and François's Belgian friend Emma… and you…"  
"I think you inhaled too much."  
"I'm serious."  
"I don't know Emma but the others are very pretty, just that you're wrong about—"  
"I am not. You're just fucking blind. You think my hair, out of all the hair in the world, is pretty and you don't think that you are pretty."  
"No more blind than you then, if you think having been born with conditions you can't control makes you ugly, you're blind and stupid."  
"Excuse me, I am in the top five of my classes. All of them except…. cooking. Pretty awful at it. But that's not important. Point here is that I am under no definition 'stupid.' Got that?"  
"Then you need to learn the definition of stupid."  
"Remember when I said I owed you one?"  
"Yeah— what's that got to do with anything?"  
"Remember what I said before that?"  
"Refresh my memory… I am not sure."  
"That I could kiss you."  
Chiara grabbed the pillow and hid her face in it. Julia began to panic, trying to get the pillow away from the girl. She was mentally repeating that she had made a mistake, worried that she had just said something wrong to this person she was supposed to only be showing lukewarm interest in. She had gone the wrong way, so she panicked and hastily added.  
"I didn't mean that, okay? It was just an expression, don't take me seriously! I say things like that to Toni and François too! It's… meaningless, okay?"  
Chiara put the pillow down and looked back at Julia, "Stop, you'll have another attack. Calm down, okay? Breathe. Be quiet a minute."  
Julia nodded and did as she was told, looking worried. Chiara looked at her straight in the eyes before speaking again.  
"Do you like me? Just nod or shake your head. Don't speak. When I say like I mean… like you liked Erzsébet."  
Julia opened her mouth but closed it again and shrugged. She was not entirely sure. There was the physical aspect of Chiara that she found appealing, but as for feelings, she was unsure. Chiara took the silence as a cue to look around the room, her eyes settling on Julia's shoes. She smiled once she saw the knots in the laces, walking over to the shoe rack and carefully starting to undo all the knots in the laced shoes. They were difficult, especially some Julia had double knotted. Julia looked over and watched in silence until she could not stand the lack of conversation.  
"What is it with you and knots? First my hair… then my shoes… are you going to untwist every twisted thing I own?" Chiara did not answer. "Tangles? Is that it? You don't like being tangled up in Julia Beilschmidt's mess and this is your subtle hint at that?" The other was still quiet. "Please, say something… you think I am pathetic now, don't you? You pity me for having asthma and you don't really want to tell me the truth about how you feel because you think I'll have another fit. Is that it? Chiara Vargas pities me! Great, wonderful, just fucking awesome for me. You pity me."  
"Chiara Lovina Vargas and no, I don't pity anyone. Pity is for dogs. People can do well without someone thinking they are better off and staying around with someone they think is pathetic."  
"Lovina?"  
"Chiara Lovina."  
"Julchen."  
"What?"  
"If you get to be picky about what I call you, then I get to be picky about what you can call me."  
"Julchen?"  
"It's a German nickname for Julia."  
"O..kay.."  
"Chiara Lovina."  
"Don't."  
"I thought…"  
"You can call me Lovina, if you really want. Just… not Chiara Lovina, okay? Grandpa calls me that.. I um, it makes me homesick."  
"Grandfather calls me Beilschmidt."  
"Why?"  
"Who knows? Anyway, Lovina, you and I are friends whether you like it or not."  
"Why? What if I dislike it?"  
"Too damn bad, you saw me cry. Only Lutzy and my friends get to see that. Understand?"  
"You egocentric, stupid jerk. I don't even know you."  
"Well, you ignorant, haughty diva, you're going to have to get to know me."_


	3. In your stomach

**3. In your stomach**

* * *

_Dear Julchen,  
I am not even going to promise this is the last one. The counselors were still unhappy with the last letter. They still tell me I am not putting enough feeling into it. How the hell would they know, they don't read them. (At least, I'm supposed to believe that.) I wrote about detention and the knots in your shoelaces already. Or as I think of it, the day Julia Beilschmidt made this weird simile or metaphor or whatever about knots and us. You had a point, though.  
There is a phrase, "knot in your stomach," to describe nerves. I will write about that one this time then, since knots are apparently important to you.  
This was a year after we met and made the deal that I plait your hair every night before bed, every day during physical education and every time you had a sports event. You really like the fishtail braid for some reason, and I admit I like braiding one. So, we got to know each other better since you talked a lot during the time I spent doing your hair. I thought you ignored anything I said at first, since you never answered me, but you proved me wrong. Early in the school year I had told you I had never been asked to a dance, this was the first few weeks we knew each other. You didn't even seem to be listening to me. Then you took me by surprise when the fall dance came around the second year. You asked me to go with you, to have my first dance with you (and your friends.) I thought that was a nice gesture on your part, so I said yes. That dance was amazing, but not the awkward parts where we had François and Antonio shoving away guys that were trying to hit on us. I liked the parts where it was just us, a group of friends together. Then, of course, you had to get to the part with the knot. Always the knots. You snuck me out of the dance, with you into the hall. You asked if you could tell me something and not risk losing out friendship. I was worried, to be honest. I expected you to say you had a huge crush on my uncle or that you and Feli had kissed or something really, really weird. Then, you told me. Then and there, just outward honesty in an empty hall. You told me you had feelings for me, that you had been trying really hard to keep me from knowing since I was not just going to accept that and move on. I don't know what I was thinking, or even if I was thinking at all. Right then and there, I kissed you.  
I don't know how to explain it, but I liked it. From the looks of it, you did too.  
Anyway, this letter should be good. At least for a while. I get the feeling the counselors still want more from me.  
Sincerely,  
Chiara Lovina Vargas._

* * *

Chiara and Julia were roommates this school term. Since Julia was a third year and Chiara a second year student, they could share a single dorm. Something not allowed for first years. Feliciano was now a first year student in the preparatory division of the school and Ludwig a third year in the secondary. They did become what Feliciano called a "friend family," all of them together at times and caring for one another as a whole.  
The summer had turned into an adventure, the group dispersed all over Europe. Antonio back in Spain, François visiting Emma in Belgium, ducking from her elder brother who worked and lived in Amsterdam. The Vargas children had gone from place to place with their grandfather, promising to meet up with anyone they came across. Postcards and letters found their ways to them all, Julia and Chiara secretly sharing their likes for handwritten notes over typed out or pre-written messages on only told each other, having been one of their discussions during their time dealing with the beloved fishtail braid.  
Summer ended only to find them all headed back to their Swiss boarding school, a few new details of their lives added to what they already knew of each other. The headmaster and Miss Vogel were relatives of Julia and Ludwig, siblings by law. They referred to each other as Zwingli and Miss Vogel, for the adults and Beilschmidt and _"Beilschmidt!" _for the students. There was a thin layer of familiarity since Julia did sometimes call Headmaster Zwingli "Basch" or Miss Vogel "Lili" but never with any intention of disrespect. Why they had different surnames she had asked a few times, getting the answer from her grandfather, finally. Beilschmidt was not a very elegant name and they had given themselves new last names when they became old enough to think it through, Basch had done so at age sixteen, while Lili was encouraged and did so at fourteen. They did not mean any offense by it, just that they had each been born in different countries and they felt that they should do their homeland some homage with their names. Wilhelm Beilschmidt had not been offended, he still called himself Prussian, and very proudly. He had been born to Prussian parents, but already after the dissolution of the nation. He knew their feelings and respected their choices, still loving them as his children.  
After the long explanation of this matter, Julia had gone on to tell Chiara that even though they were siblings, Headmaster Zwingli and Miss Vogel were no less strict on her than on anyone else. Antonio and François had not been paying much attention, having already heard the story. Chiara, however, enjoyed knowing more about her friends. She knew more about Antonio than she liked to admit, as he was her uncle, but wanted to even out the knowledge with pieces about the others.  
It was the lull of a new school term that had made the timing perfect. There was not much going on except the promise of a school dance two weeks away that made time passing noticeable. Chiara had been braiding Julia's hair when the snowy haired girl spoke up.  
"So, would you like your first dance to be with us?" The question had come out of the blue.  
"Us? And… how do you even know if this would be my first dance?" Came the reply, a little startled.  
"Don't play dumb with me, you told me no one had asked you to a dance. So, I am asking. Will you join us? I say us because Toni and Fran are going. We do this every dance."  
"It sounds nice. Do you actually dance?"  
"No, we just wreak havoc on the place and make a run for it in pretty clothes."  
"Should've known as much."  
"_Of course _we dance, silly. What would be the point of getting all dressed up with pretty clothes and shoes and hair, then?"  
"Fine, I'll go. One condition."  
"Anything and everything you ask, princess."  
"Let me do your hair."  
"No, I will just get my _private hairdresser_ from Berlin to do it for me. God, Lovina, of course you get to do my hair."  
"I don't know… maybe you're picky.. you only ever ask me to to this braid."  
"Hell yeah, I am picky. That's why only _you_ can do it."  
The Italian laughed, making Julia feel like she was dizzy. The more time they spent together, the more she was sure she liked this girl. She was definitely at least crushing on her. There was no other explanation for the way she was keeping her breathing steady to hide the shivers that ran down her spine. The tan fingers through her hair were making her melt, she was worried she might let it slip. Then, she felt the familiar tightening of the rubber band around her hair. It was over.  
"I am going to go check on Feli. Be back."  
"Go. Don't need to announce everything, you diva."  
"Excuse me, you're the one that has a _specific person_ doing your hair in a _specific way._ Who is the real diva here?"  
"Go check on your brother!" Julia threw a pillow at the other.  
Once Chiara was gone, Julia sent a message to François and Antonio asking them to go to her dorm. Once they arrived, she shut the door and began talking about confidentiality, friendship being stronger than any urges to meddle and asked them to promise they would not hint a thing and rescue her if things went wrong.  
"No, I will rescue my niece. You can get François to help you. Deal? That way it will not give us away. If I side with you over her, she will know something is up. Got that? Chiara with me, you with François." Antonio spoke seriously.  
"That, I hadn't thought of that. Yeah, yeah, let's do that." Julia sighed.  
"So, what is this that you need us to bail you from. A prank?" The blond asked.  
"No, I um… confidentiality, remember! I am going to tell her how I feel." Julia sighed.  
"Ugh, no. She does not need to know that!" Antonio shook his head, crossing his arms before continuing. "Julia, we appreciate disclosure and honesty but I am sure Chiara does not need to know that you feel gassy, that's just rude. Drink something but for God's sake, keep it to yourself."  
Julia took a second to recover, François already laughing. The German girl began laughing along with them, her nerves subsiding. She made some comments about the two of them being insufferable jerks but she hugged them both before asking her serious question.  
"How do I tell her? Just 'hey, Lovina, I have feelings for you and I hope that doesn't change things between us' or what?"  
"That's perfect," the Spaniard nodded, looking over at the other young man.  
"No, no. More like so, take her hand in yours," François paused when he noticed Julia was attentive and serious, "kiss her hand, get down on one knee, look at her eyes, and say 'Sposami, bella.' Then, you ride off into the sunset."  
"I hate you. You sounded so great up until the end. I will say that though, it's Italian, shows I made an effort."  
"I wouldn't say that to my niece if I were you." Antonio shot a look at François.  
"Why not?" Julia looked at them both curiously.  
"It's Italian for 'marry me, beautiful.'" The Frenchman snickered even as Antonio and Julia pelted him with pillows.  
"Can we please be serious?" Julia asked.  
"Fine, fine. Listen, I will tell you what to do, just relax." Antonio smiled.  
"Good. Serious advice is what we really need or the poor girl will pay the price."  
Chiara walked back in, with Feliciano at her side. She noticed the huddle and asked, "What's going on here? What poor girl?"  
Antonio whispered to Julia, "Perfect, we can ask her directly how you can tell her. You'll see exactly how." Julia's eyes went wide and she shook her head. Antonio turned to his niece and lied, "François here wants to tell Emma how he feels, but he cannot find the way to do it. He wants some advice from a girl, but Julia cannot stop joking around. How would you like someone to tell you?"  
"Me? Ah… well… I am not the best guide here. I don't want a serenade or a public declaration. I don't want someone to make it sound like a movie script. I want it to just happen, honestly. With mistakes and all. I don't want all that fancy stuff. Just 'this is how I feel, Chiara' no more."  
Julia sighed, looking at François. "Told you. Anyway, I would tell her in a public place, with a lot of other people around. But not in front of them. Like this, you get her in a lonely part of a public place. If things go south, you each find someone to talk to there. No awkward moment wandering alone someplace or being stuck together."

* * *

The dance was two weeks after that conversation, but Julia had made a plan from it. The four of them would go together, then she would slowly get Chiara alone and tell her. If things did not go well, each of them would have someone to talk to. Somewhere to wait for the feeling to blow over. She took a deep breath as Chiara finished curling her hair. They both looked amazing, and Julia had to stop herself from playing with both of their hair. There was an odd, fly away curl that the tan girl left alone, and the albino did not understand why she never did anything to it. Still, it was a cute little oddity, which she shared with Feliciano. Julia thought it made Lovina cuter, and as she was thinking this, she did not notice she had taken the younger by the arm and was leading her out to the multipurpose room.  
Julia noticed Chiara turning red and moved to let go of her arm but the Italian murmured a little protest. So they entered the room together. Their two friends were waiting in the doorway, smiling brightly. Julia felt more and more nervous as they began dancing. She was with her Frenchman and Chiara with her uncle. They danced a while, the two girls not really minding the glances the two boys gave each other. It was then, when the music changed to something none of them liked nor recognized enough to dance to, they separated. Julia took Chiara by the hand, leading her down to an empty hall outside the room. She made sure they were alone before speaking.  
"What—"  
"Shh… Lovina, I have something to say."  
"Here?"  
"Please.. shh."  
"Is this off limits?"  
"Lovina please!"  
"Sorry."  
"Lovina," Julia took the other's hand in her own. "I know you probably don't want to hear this, but I think I might let this slip any time now. Oh, god… what am I doing.." She took a shaky breath, feeling a knot in her stomach. "Lovina, I like you. When I say liked, I mean _that way. _The liking that makes me ask that you do my hair, and that we share a dorm. And that you come to the dance. Not for them. For me. With me. I… have a… shit… I can't…. shit! I can't…"  
"That part you can keep to yourself."  
"What?"  
"Your gastric problems are not something I want to discuss right now."  
"What?"  
"You said 'I can't shit' and I really don't want to hear about that right now."  
"Lovina, I swear!"  
"You owe me one?"  
"What now…?"  
"Remember what you said before that?"  
Julia felt dizzy, her breath hitched as she tried to remember. While she was busy trying to remember, Chiara looked at her with a small smile. The shorter girl stepped forward, taking the thin pale hands in her own.  
"You said you could do this," Chiara whispered, lightly kissing Julia's cheek. Julia gasped, her eyes wide and watering. "Or was it more like…." The Italian brushed her lips against the German girl's, uncertain. Julia, however, was recovered enough to reciprocate.  
"I thought you were…"  
"Straight?"  
"…Yeah… I um…"  
"My brother stole the straight gene. I got stuck with this."  
"You say it like it's a bad thing."  
"It is. Do you know how many pretty girls there are in the world? And having to guess if they're straight or not really tears you up."  
"Don't I know." Julia barely breathed. She felt the other's hands on her face, one thumb absently rubbing the scar she hated so much. She wanted to pull away, to protest at the attention placed on her flaw, but she liked the soft feeling of the tan skin on her own.  
"You liked me since the shoelaces, didn't you?"  
"Pretty much. And you?"  
"Since you kissed me."  
"But I didn't… you did. Just now… not—"  
"Eskimo Kisses count, right?"  
Julia laughed, remembering the moment. It had been the same day. Both of them had liked each other from the start.  
"We're not in love." Chiara sighed.  
"_You're _not." Julia corrected.  
"And you are?"  
"Of course I am. I wanted to cut my hair, but I liked the way you braided it. I _hate _braids. Being with you in physical education, your least favorite class by the way, made phys ed so much better. It's my favorite. I never touched that curl of yours because I know you hate it, even if it's killing me to play with it. I asked that we share a room this year so you could do my hair and I could tuck you in bed—"  
"You're the one doing that?"  
"Who did you think?"  
"Feli. I used to tuck him in when we were younger. I did the forehead kiss thing, too. I thought he was just returning the favor."  
"Whoops, well. No. It's me."  
"What else has been you?"  
"Just… drop it."  
"You love me. I can't drop it. I just thought you liked me, maybe to check if you were really…"  
"A lesbian? Gay?"  
"I was going to say into girls, but yeah. Yeah. All that. So, um… if you love me and I like you… then… We should… if you want…"  
"I usually wouldn't consider dating a younger girl, but you are my one and only exce—" Chiara punched her arm.  
"Oh, shut up."  
"Diva! Make me," Julia grinned, rubbing her arm.  
Chiara wasted no time pressing a kiss to Julia's lips, making a little squeak when the other held her and kissed her in ways she had not expected.  
"Where did you learn—"  
"Do you really want to know?" Julia groaned, leaning against the wall.  
"Yes! Not fair… you know how to kiss… hey— he-hey not my ear!" The protests died once Julia began to speak.  
"When you play as much truth or dare as I do, you learn a few things." The whispers tickled the Italian and she flinched, but Julia pulled her closer. "You won't like to know. But do I really have to tell you?"  
"Ye-yes. Isn't fair…"  
"Fine. Let's go meet them." Julia pulled away and led her back inside the multipurpose room, pausing when Lovina laced her fingers around her own and gave her neck a kiss. She would melt if that happened again, so she walked to the pair and began to talk.  
"Sorry to disappear. Had some things to talk about with—"  
"Your girlfriend."  
Antonio dropped his drink. François looked like he was going to faint. Julia had done it! From the look on her face, the pair guessed that Julia had not been aware either. She was looking incredulously at Lovina, who kissed her cheek. Julia let go of the other's hand and sank into a chair, shaking her head and crying. It was too much, she was happy but she was nervous. She felt like she was going to be sick, and François went over to rub her back, Chiara looking sadly up at her uncle.  
"Really?" He asked, pulling her aside to another chair.  
"We… we had not discussed that yet. I just thought she would like it. I didn't mean to upset her. She was kissing me so I—"  
"Kissing you? Damn it, Julia!"  
"What, what's wrong with that? Are you homoph—"  
"No! Come on, you can't tell? François is my boyfriend. The three of us met at the alliance meetings back in middle school. Then we quit going because Julia was getting picked on too much. That plus her asthma? She was going to die in a fight."  
"So why is it bad that Julia kissed me then? If you're gay and François is gay and Julia is then what's wrong?"  
"Fran is _bisexual_. Never lets me forget it. The fucker. But that's not the point. Last time Julia got so involved in a kiss she had an asthma attack. Don't let her run out of breath, I am begging you. We had to make up some story about her running, to the nurse.. she.. god.. she doesn't control herself."  
"Who was she kissing?"  
"Chiara."  
"I need to know, she's my girlfriend now. I deserve…"  
"She hasn't accepted that has she?"  
"What, me calling her girlfriend? Ah, no."  
"François."  
"What about him?"  
"That's who she was kissing."  
"Him? But she's… she's not…"  
"It was truth or dare. We play that a lot with cards we printed off the internet. None of the dares are things we make up. Besides, she wasn't sure. Just that… she gets carried away. She really likes it. I can't explain it. She just likes being treated like she's not sick. Can't exactly remember she's sick when she's kissing someone and they're running out of breath, too."  
"Oh. So.. um.. I can still kiss her, right? Just not…"  
"Shh." Antonio noticed the other pair walking over to them, Julia nodding and wiping her eyes.  
"I am sorry, Julia. I shouldn't have called you my girlfriend without asking you first."  
"It's fine, Lovina. Just… Julchen, okay? Call me Julchen."  
"Right. Um, does that mean we are?"  
"Of course it does. Now you have to slow dance with me, whether you want to or—"  
"Yes, yes I do!"  
She ran, pulling the Germanic girl behind her and going to the disc jockey. She requested a few songs she knew off the top of her head and watched as Julia laughed.  
They were joined by the boys, who first took them to dance, a traditional little scene of two gentlemen with two ladies. Then the music swayed and they took the twirls as chances to change partners with each other. Julia sighed as she held Lovina, the two battling for the lead role until François settled it for them. Julia got the lead by being taller. The next song Lovina could take the lead and they could switch after every song. That was what they did.

* * *

"On a beach, the sunset giving way to a full moon."  
"Lake Bracciano with the castle in the scenery."  
"The Eiffel Tower?"  
"I thought you didn't like it because it's made of metal?"  
"Well, it would ground the electricity, no? It leads straight to the ground. So—"  
"Don't be brave for me, Lovina."  
"I have to get over my fears, don't I?"  
"Not by making yourself suffer through them. That's stupid."  
"Yeah? What are you afraid of huh? Nothing."  
"More than you could ever know."  
"Bullshit."  
"Okay then, here's my list. Having an asthma attack during a sports meet, too far from my inhaler. Never finding someone who likes my physical appearance, I look like a damn specter. Drowning. Fire. Um… rats. Ah… um… Ludwig turning out like Aldrich."  
"Who's Aldrich?"  
"He was my baby brother. He died at about seven months I think? Didn't even look sick until right about a month before. He was really pale and sick and… he died. Ludwig looks so much like him. The blond hair, the blue eyes… the face… It's like seeing Aldrich all grown, and… alive."  
"Oh. I am so sorry."  
"Ludwig is the only one that wasn't born sick. I was, Aldrich was… just not him. He was absolutely perfect. Healthy, big, strong, like Aldrich was at first. God, I am so sorry, I should shut up."  
"Are you scared of dying?"  
"No."  
"No?"  
"We are all going to, so… whatever. Just… I am scared of others dying. I don't want to be left alone. People pity me. Ludwig, Vatti, Fran, Antonio, Feli and you are not allowed to. Braginski hates me, which is better than pity. Erzsébet and Roderich I am not sure. Lili and Basch can't stand me. _That,_ I like."  
"They actually care a lot about you. I heard them a few times. They can stand you, just pretend not to. They know you like that."  
"Those assholes! Well, whatever. This conversation is pretty depressing. Kiss me?"  
"No."  
"What? What do you mean _no?_"  
Chiara got up and locked the door. She climbed on Julia's bed, covered them both with the comforter and pulled Julia in for a long embrace. Before long, she felt the other's pale lips on her own. She kissed back clumsily, wrapping the other closer as she reached for the remote. She put on a movie and Julia gasped.  
"My favorite!" Julia peppered kisses all over the other's face, pulling them both up against the wall and wrapping the covers around them. She knew she had never told anyone her favorite movie. How had the Italian known?  
There was a scene with a kiss and she ignored it, instead kissing her girlfriend the way the couple on the screen kissed. They dissolved into peals of laughter for a moment before checking the time. It was pretty late, but neither cared. Julia held Lovina closer and the Mediterranean reacted by kissing her sweetly, curling up to each other in the bottom bunk. They fell asleep a few moments later.

* * *

"Still hate phys ed?"  
"Yes!"  
"For me?"  
"But I'll slow you down! I know how much you like racing past everybody."  
"What if I tell you I like it better when I am with you, regardless of winning or losing?"  
"You cheesy little—"  
"Cutie." Julia gave the other a kiss on the nose.  
"Beilschmidt! Vargas! Are you partners or not?"  
"Come on now, coach. Partners sounds cheap. _Girlfriends. _And yes, yes we are."  
"Beilschmidt! I meant partners for this race, no need to divulge your personal relationship information, thank you."  
Julia and Chiara laughed, the younger giving the older a small smack on the arm. "We'll get detention!"  
"Oooh, perfect. The romance advice book says that meaningful places like your first date, your first kiss, where you met are wonderful things for a couple to revist."  
"Ti odio, idiota."  
"Anch'io ti amo."  
Chiara blinked, her face reddening. She had not expected Julia to respond to her Italian insult with a soft phrase of love. In Italian, to make matters worse. The other loved her, despite her temper. Despite these outbursts. She nodded and kissed the other's cheek, watching as she darted off. The two man relay seemed torturous to her, but Julia seemed to be having fun. So she decided to put up with it. After this, she had science. Good, something to distract her from the obvious disaster that would result from her finishing the relay. Julia would probably not talk to her for a week.

* * *

She shook her head and leaned on Antonio. They had come in second place, which wasn't bad, but it wasn't what she wanted. She had pushed Chiara too hard. The Italian girl had been coughing and choking at the end of the race. She had spit up on the grass once the race was over. She had refused to let Julia help her, and Julia had been scared. What if she made the other sick? She ran her fingers through her hair and leaned on François. She hated cooking class, she was never sure how much of anything was too much or how well cooked her food was. She knew Lovina was good at it, having learned from her grandfather. She was good from practice, having done so to feed herself and Feliciano whenever their grandfather was unavailable. So, she had talent for it. Julia did not. Her friends did, so she stayed in the class for their sake, and for the sake of not sitting in some other class alone. This cooking class, she spent worrying about Chiara. The other had not looked well. She sighed and began cooking one of the girl's favorite dishes, helped along by Antonio and François. Lunch was soon, so the food would not be too cold by the time Chiara could eat it. Before long, alarms went off and the girl checked her food. It was not burning. Neither was anyone else's. The teacher took a phone call and began ordering them to shut all the stoves off and close the windows. They were on lockdown due to a gas leak. Julia hid behind her station and tried calling Chiara. There was no answer. She tried her brother. Nothing. Antonio got a hold of Feliciano and looked pale. He pulled François and Julia close.  
"Gas leak is in the science building."  
"Ludwig has science now!" Julia cried.  
"So does Chiara." Antonio added, a somber expression on his face.  
Julia began panicking, crying and screaming until she began shaking. She was running out of breath. The boys tried to calm her but she did not let them. She struggled away and coughed, crying and screaming. Her brother! Her girlfriend! Both in a building with a gas leak. She did not calm down and began gasping for breath, feeling a compression in her chest. The teacher was talking, but Julia was struggling to breathe. She saw her bag, over a meter away. She did not reach it.


	4. In your throat

**4. In your throat**

* * *

_Dear Lovina,  
The counselors said that writing letters was supposed to help me, but it doesn't. I don't want to write them. I don't. I wrote like they asked me to, except I wrote from your point of view not mine. This wasn't supposed to happen. Neither of us should have gone through what we did. We were supposed to argue more about the Eiffel Tower or Lake Bracciano. We were supposed to settle on the sunset on the beach on the night of a full moon. We weren't supposed to be going through this. You and I weren't supposed to separate. Antonio and François were supposed to harrass us about giving each other cute pet names or compete with us for cutest couple or something. This was not supposed to happen.  
A gas leak! A fucking gas leak! Accidents like that aren't supposed to happen outside of the television. What am I supposed to feel? It's always knots. Fucking knots. This one is called a knot in my throat.  
You don't know what happened outside of the science building, I know what happened in it. So It's only fair that you get the equal information.  
François and Antonio and I were in the cooking room. I was making your favorite, Fettuccine Alfredo. The teacher told us to shut off all the equipment and close all the windows. There was a gas leak in the science building. We were on lockdown because of it. I tried calling you, but you didn't pick up. I tried calling Ludwig but he didn't either. We were locked in a while. All systems shut off. I was screaming and crying enough to have an attack, so I don't know how long it took for the lockdown to end. I woke up in the hospital. About twenty other students from the school were there too, so I figured no one would blame me for my asthma attack. François and Antonio visited and told me there were more students on the way. The whole school was going to be checked over for gas poisoning. Lovely. They had already been checked, but they didn't want to be shuttled to the dorms. They stayed with me and wouldn't tell be about you or Ludwig. The nurse had forbidden them from it. What a jerk. Anyway, the school was on lockdown for a while. Two or three hours, I think. I spent most of it pretty much knocked out. I was the first student admitted to the hospital. Lucky me. I don't know about you or Ludwig, so I can't tell you. Just that, I was desperate to know. Fuck. I am crying. I can't finish this stupid letter. Screw the counselors._

* * *

Julia woke up to the argument at her doorway. Her two friends were standing there, a nurse barring them from the entrance. He did not seem to want her to even see them at the doorway, he stood like a guard dog. So she spoke up.  
"Hey fucker, let them in. Those are my loyal servants coming to check on their queen how dare you. Get out of the way, asshole. Move!" Julia barked weakly. The mask on her face diminished the threatening effect she was aiming for.  
"Watch your mouth, young lady. Now, you two, not a word about that thing we discussed, understand?"  
"Yeah, yeah. Our queen is about to have our head, we can deal with you later." François shot back, irritated. The nurse had called him a girl earlier, and he still was not over the offense of being given a little pink gown in the examination room. Antonio and he shoved the nurse aside, walking over to Julia.  
"Your highness," Both boys kneeled and kissed her hands, the nurse shutting the door and glaring as he did so.  
"My loyal subjects, fill me in." Julia grinned, retracting her hands.  
"Well, after you collapsed you had to get CPR from—" Antonio began.  
"I _really_ don't want to know that." Julia interrupted.  
"Fair enough. The school is off lockdown now, not that it matters, we have all been evacuated into the nearest hospitals. Gas leak was pretty bad." François offered instead.  
"What kind?"  
"Ammonium."  
"What the _fuck. _Why would a school keep ammonium gas just lying around like that?"  
"Fran, isn't that stuff highly toxic?"  
The blond nodded solemnly. "Emma sent me this from outside the science building."  
"Outside during a lockdown?" Antonio looked confused.  
"She went to the bathroom, you know Emma, she always has to go to the bathroom during some class. She tried to go back in but no one would open the door for her."  
"You mean, the school locked students inside with the toxic shit?" Julia hissed.  
"No, they locked the third and sixth labs and got the students out. Except there's a problem."  
"What?" She demanded.  
"The third and sixth laboratories are joined by the storage room." Antonio informed.  
"Labs one to five are secondary school labs, six to ten are preparatory school." The blond added.  
"Okay, and?"  
"Three students never left the labs. They must have been in the storage room. Lock down the labs, you cut off their exit."  
"So, that's it? Leave three students to die?"  
"No one knows if they made it out yet."  
"Do they at least know who they're looking for?"  
"Yeah, they know."  
"Okay, at least they have that much. Have you gotten a hold of Chiara or Ludwig?"  
Neither boy spoke. Instead they looked around her room and washed their hands in the corner sink, pretending to be fascinated by the foam soap.  
"Oh, come on, guys. You have to tell me. I know that you prefer not to relay messages but come on. Not like I can call them and ask. I am in a hospital gown, my clothes are on that chair and my phone is probably still in the kitchen room. So, have you gotten a hold of them."  
"Nurse said not to exacerbate your asthma. We will hang if you have another attack."  
"I am hooked up to this stupid oxygen mask, I am gonna be fine. Now tell me. If the nurse gives you shit I'll _exacerbate_ his kidneys and sell them on the black market."  
"Julia, exacerbate means—" François sighed.  
"Shut up about me misusing a word and tell me about them. Where are they? How are they?"  
Antonio began lowly, "The gas levels got too high. It's way above leth—" His boyfriend elbowed him in the ribs.  
"Lethal… The three students? Dead, right? No one realized there were students missing until too late! Who…"  
"We can't…" Antonio wheezed.  
"You don't know?"  
François buried his head in his hands and tried to ignore it all. The nurse was going to kill them, but at least he would let Antonio hang himself, he was not going to join in.  
"We do know."  
"Who? Who were they? What are the names?"  
There was a knock, then the door swung open. Julia had expected Chiara or Ludwig, so her smile faded when she saw Erzsébet. She looked away and studied the lines on her breathing monitor, holding her breath a little to watch the green line turn yellow. Her childhood friend sat beside her and held her hand.  
Antonio joined his boyfriend, not wanting to interrupt.  
"I am so sorry about your brother."  
Julia froze. "What?"  
"They probably already told you that he was in the storage room when they shut down the labs. I am so sorry."  
"No, no, no no no no no!" Julia shook her head.  
Erzsébet stopped, looking at the boys. "You didn't tell her yet?"  
They shook their heads, looking at Julia, who was shaking. "Nurse said he'd skin us alive if she had another attack. "  
The Hungarian girl furrowed her brows and hugged Julia. "I am so sorry. I thought you knew. Julia, I am so sorry. Oh, darling."  
"Get off me! Chiara's gonna see you and think something's going on here!" Julia squirmed, making a weak attempt at getting her friend off. "Roderich wouldn't want me all over _you_, so show me the same courtesy!"  
"Oh, my god. My god, Julia." Erzsébet cried, rubbing the girl's back. "I am so, so sorry. I am."  
"Is that Chiara C-h-i-a-r-a or K-i-a-r-a?" A voice asked in a Germanic accent.  
"C-h. What's it matter?"  
"My condolences, Julia. The three students we lost were—"  
"Shut up!" Antonio and François called, both pale. Roderich could be so tactless. He meant well, but he was not the best for this situation.  
Julia pieced it together, however. Once she had confirmed the spelling of Chiara's name he had offered his condolences. _Chiara was one of them._  
"Ludwig Beilschmidt, Chiara Lovina Vargas and who was the third?"  
"Natalya Arlovskaya."  
"Oh, _oh._" Julia felt sorry for Ivan Braginski. Even he did not deserve this. She was a mess of tears and trembling.

* * *

The service was somber, held in the fields they used for sports. Chiara would have hated it, Julia felt sick. There was the last knot. One in her throat as she saw three large photographs on display. Far too happy for such an event. Her brother, her girlfriend and her enemy's sister. Ivan looked like he would break something. He looked angry, much like she felt on the inside. They should have kept the doors open. The labs should have just been evacuated, the gas tanks should have been placed in glass gas chambers. If they leaked it would have been contained. She had so many things to scream. The anger boiling inside her was hidden by the grief outwardly cracking her. Ivan was the opposite. His anger was hiding his grief. She heard the soft singing of the choir and felt like burning the grass. They were not giving their farewells, how _dare_ they sing farewells. They needed to shut up. They needed to stop. She was going to wake up right beside Chiara, wrapped up in bed. The two late for class. Scolded by Zwingli and their teachers. The singing needed to stop.  
She didn't realize everyone was quiet. She had actually screamed at them to stop. She had been screaming for a little while now. Antonio and François were two rows behind her, too crowded to get to her as she felt dizzy. She felt someone catch her and gasped when she recognized the face.  
"Do not strain yourself, Beilschmidt. You do not like being sent to the nurse, da?" Ivan was holding her up, Feliciano at her side, fanning her face. She nodded weakly to both of them and felt the strangest moment of her life. Ivan was holding her as she cried, keeping her from falling and shaking. He was patting her back oddly. The choir began again and the Russian gave her over to Feliciano. He began to yell, Julia recognizing his words as things she wanted to say, herself.  
How dare the choir sing? How dare they hold the funeral on school grounds? Why should any of the science staff be here? Why had they locked them in a toxic room? Why had they declared lockdown rather than an evacuation? And why the _fuck_ was no one apologizing? Three students had paid with their lives and all they were hearing was about their lives cut short and the promising futures they had — all things that they could still have if some people had more than one brain cell. Julia agreed so much, so painfully true were these words to her. She cried on Feliciano, who had not stopped crying for a minute. He had cried since the moment he got the news about Chiara all the way until the service. He would recover the fastest, Julia knew. He was letting it all out while Ivan and she bottled up.

* * *

"Break my nose, like you always threaten to." He was not joking, he gave her a pipe. Julia took it and threw it to the ground.  
"That stupid feud is over. Fuck, Braginski, you lost your sister I lost my brother. Let them be proud of us for putting this shit aside."  
"Natalya kind of liked it. She suggested I cut off your hair."  
"So, you still want to do that?"  
"Cut off your hair?"  
"Yeah."  
"Nyet."  
"Please?"  
"You want me to be cutting your hair off?"  
"Please? Chiara was the one who liked it… she used to braid it really pretty every night…"  
"You don't want that as a reminder, yes?"  
"Yeah. So, will you?"  
"Break my nose."  
"No!"  
"Then I can't cut your hair."  
"Why not?"  
"It was Natalya who said I should cut your hair. If you broke my nose she would do it herself, she said. I still have her pretty knife. Your brother never told you to break my nose?"  
"He's the reason I never did."  
"Then I cut your hair and what do you get as a trophy?"  
"Can I keep the hair? I will get Erzsébet to braid it like Chiara used to. Then… you cut it. Deal?"  
"Deal. I like this better than a broken nose."  
"I thought you might."

* * *

"So, you keep the braid, but… um… doesn't that hurt more?"  
"No. I won't feel it anymore. The braid is on its own. Not part of my hair anymore."  
"You're keeping this as a piece of her."  
"Well, yeah. I mean… _this_ is the hair she used to braid. Whatever grows out after, she won't have touched. So it wouldn't be the same."  
"Did you ever tell her?"  
"That I love her?"  
"Mm-hmm."  
"The day of the dance. Then that night. Then the morning… in the locker room… yeah. I told her."  
"Did she ever tell you?"  
"N-no."  
"Here." Antonio gave Julia a letter.  
_Dear Julchen,  
This is stupid, you are right next to me. I said it's not like we were in love. Truth is, I thought __you__ didn't love __me__. I already loved you. __**I love you.**__ I will say it to your face. Just, maybe tomorrow night. You never told me your favorite movie. Ludwig did. The Fifth Element? Nice. So, that's all. Please rip this up if you read it. It's embarrassing.  
Yours Truly,  
Lovina_

Julia made a motion to tear the letter as asked but shook her head and cried into her hand, holding the letter out to the boys. François took it and Antonio held Julia, rubbing her back.  
They led her to the counseling office, much to her protests. She knew she had go eventually, but she had been avoiding it. They dropped her off and she cried inside the place, sinking down into a plush chair with a trembling frame.  
"Ms. Beilschmidt, come in, come in." The counselor with an identification showing him to be Arthur Kirkland spoke. She followed and cried for a few more minutes before trying to talk.  
"I don't want to talk. I don't like talking."  
"Please write a letter then." He slid over a pad of paper and a pen. She began with her first letter, giving it to the counselor. He nodded and dismissed her, calling her class to excuse her tardiness.

Her second appointment with the counselor was not much different. She sat and wrote a letter. The third was identical to the last. She sat in silence and wrote a letter.  
It was this visit, her fourth, when he finally spoke up.  
"Julia, please write a letter to Chiara. Not _from_ her. I know you would rather she be right here, as with your brother, but you cannot bottle up and pretend. It is harmful for you."  
Julia nodded and sighed, writing the letter she had been asked to. "Dear Lovina…" She was a mess of tears and she could not finish, she was sobbing on the desk. She crumpled up the letter and wrote a new one. Then she folded that one and wrote another.

_Dear Julchen,  
I know you cut your hair because you only liked it when I braided it and you didn't want anyone else to touch what I touched. I know you didn't break his nose because Ludwig asked you not to. I know you can't look at Erzsébet without feeling pain and anger. Don't fight her. She gave you the bad news but she didn't mean any harm. She thought you already knew. Besides, you jerk, she's your friend! I know you didn't tear up my letter like I asked. I forgive you for the hair, the letter and for screaming at the funeral. Thank you. That's the reaction I wanted. Not a chipper choir and the track grass. Fuck the track grass. I hate the field. Please, write Ludwig letters, too. I know he writes them for you. Return the favor?  
Love,  
Chiara Lovina Vargas. _

_Dear Ludwig,  
Lovina asked me to write you a letter, too. I didn't want to bother since Feliciano probably does. Or he just talks, maybe he just talks. I don't think he is like me. I think you know how Feliciano feels. You were the boy's best friend. Like a brother. I am taking care of him the way you and Chiara used to. Say hi to Aldrich for me. I am sure you met him by now. Don't overwork yourself, okay? Relax.  
I never told you, but I love you a lot and I was just looking out for you when I was so rough on you. You reminded me so much of Aldrich. I am so sorry I never told you about him, or that I was just being a protective older sister. Please forgive me. I never meant to worry you. Big sister is supposed to watch out for little brother not the other way around.  
All my love,  
Julia Beilschmidt. _

Julia was a mess of tears. She was crying and shaking. The knot in her throat made it hard for her to tell the counselor she was done. Then the counselor took the pen back and gave her an envelope.

_To: Julia Beilschmidt  
From: Romulus Vargas_

Julia couldn't bear to open it.


	5. Epilogue

**5. In the wood**

* * *

_Five years later…_  
Julia was rummaging through her old schoolbag when she came across an envelope.  
_To: Julia Beilschmidt  
From: Romulus Vargas  
_It took her a moment to remember why the name felt familiar, yet distant. She let out a soft groan and was in the middle of putting the envelope back in the bag when she stopped.  
It had been five years. She was twenty-two years old, working as a cashier in a small boutique in Berlin to help pay for her studies. She did well enough, still sharing the home with her grandfather. It had been a while since she had thought of Chiara. She could not forget Ludwig, his room was to the right of hers. His neat bedroom was in need of a good dusting, something she had promised to do. Of course, she had always used her asthma as an excuse not to. The dust would be bad for her. So, she continued avoiding the task. She had gotten dust masks already, but they were still in their packaging, untouched. This envelope could wait, so she opened the pack of masks and began dusting the room. She scolded herself for not having stepped foot in the room once. The bedsheets, the shelves, the windows, everything needed a thorough dusting. She decided it was a good thing, since the time spent cleaning would be time she could avoid the letter. She went out of her way to make the room look as impeccable as Ludwig used to keep it, sitting back on his bed once she was finished.  
"I am sorry I didn't clean sooner. Look, bro, some of us have duties outside of the home. I can't dust your room every time you feel like asking. Do your own chores for a change, yeah?" She had her eyes closed, picturing him sitting on the foot of the bed rolling his eyes at her. She did not expect a response, so she jumped up and yelped when she got one.  
"Thank you for cleaning, it looks like his room again." Her grandfather nodded sadly.  
"Vatti! Ah, sorry. I know talking to him is bad for me… I—"  
"If it helps you, then there is no harm. Just don't pretend he is really answering. You know the line, just don't cross it."  
"Right. It's my day off today, would you like to do something together?"  
"Julchen, I appreciate the offer but I am tired. I will just turn in early. Dinner is done, if you're hungry."  
She looked at the clock on her brother's wall. It was nearly eight, she had been unaware it had gotten so late.  
There was nothing else she could do to stall. She had called Emma, Antonio and François. She had yelled at Ivan on the phone for old time's sake. She had eaten dinner as slowly as she could, then decided on making herself a dessert. There was nothing more she could do that she could pretend was not an excuse. The letter was waiting on her pillow.  
She figured she may as well read it, since her late girlfriend's grandfather had taken the time to write it. The albino threw herself on the bed and opened the envelope as slowly and carefully as she could. She pulled out the paper as if in slow motion, giving herself a paper cut in the process. She sucked on her finger, using the rest of her digits to unfold the paper.  
_Dear Miss Julia,  
_She couldn't read more. No, he was not addressing her so formally. It felt wrong to go on. She felt detached from the letter. It should not be Ms. Julia. It almost felt as if he knew she would not open it until much later, when she had a title. Gulping back the knot in her throat; she felt a bitter, reminiscent feeling from the word knot. That had been their theme, knots.  
She shook the thought and began again.  
_Dear Ms. Julia,  
I am writing to you to give you my thanks. My grandson Feliciano is not the type to cope well with grief. He recently told me you have been very kind to him as he deals with the loss of his sister. He told me that you also lost a brother in the accident. My sincerest condolences to you and your family. It is a difficult time for us all.  
I also want to thank you for returning Chiara's smile to her. Her summers outside of school she always looked gloomy. Something was lost in her whenever she had time to herself, nothing to distract her. She was always invested in her schoolwork as a means of distraction. Summer always stole that from her. This summer, after having met you, she was so bright and lively. I am immensely grateful to have he smile back. It is so beautiful. If you or your family ever need anything, please do not hesitate. You will know how to reach me.  
Sincerely,  
Romulus Vargas_

Julia was crying at the mention of Chiara and her smile. She put the letter back and nursed the cut. As she went to the medicine cabinet for rubbing alcohol to clean the cut, she saw her reflection. She had not grown out her hair since Ivan had cut it with Natalya's knife. Her short hair made her look boyish, and sometimes she admitted she wanted to grow it out more. Still, she had not. Her long hair belonged to Chiara, and only Chiara. As did a special place on her skin. She knew Antonio and François would protest, but as soon as she was old enough, she had gotten a tattoo. _Chiara Lovina Vargas_ and _Ludwig Beilschmidt,_ on her wrist. It had hurt, she had feared she would grind her teeth to dust. Then, with the pain that had given her the names, she felt a little bit closer to closure.  
She kissed her wrist every night, it had become such a habit that she did not notice it any more. She kissed her wrist, whispered good night and fell asleep. It was the same every night. She had long forgotten that the habit was still part of her.  
Antonio had kept in touch with Feliciano, but Julia and he had stopped seeing each other once the school year was over. She had gone straight for a university program, wanting to numb the ache with school work.  
Feliciano would be out of that school by now, Julia thought as she looked at the tattoo. She apologized for having lost touch with the boy, both because she felt Ludwig would have wanted her to be there with him, since he could not and because Chiara had always taken the time to include Feliciano in her day. The albino sighed and sent a message to an email address that for all she knew no longer worked.

_Good to hear from you again, Julchen! Or should I say Julia now? As you know, it is Chiara's birthday soon. Grandpa suggested we burn her things the way she always threatened to do herself. She would have liked the fire. She kept some wood in her room, always saying she would do it someday. I think you should be there. She would have liked that._

* * *

Julia was unsure about the matter. It was Chiara who had wanted to burn these things. Julia would finally see more of the girl she loved only to watch it burn. She helped carry the old wood, the one the girl had said over and over she would burn, herself. As the two members of her family began piling the things she had always threatened to light up, Julia paused. What had Romulus said? He had spoken but she had not been paying attention.  
"Chiara said you had a thing with knots." He repeated.  
"Ah, sorry. No, that was…" How could she explain.  
"No? Shame. She said she would invite you to help her burn all this. That you might find it fit your theme."  
"Burning? Fire? I don't… I don't understand, sir. I am sorry."  
"The wood. See that?" He held out a piece that Feliciano had refused to set down. "That little mark is from a knot in a tree. `The knot in the wood' she said."  
"Knots… in the wood." Julia choked. She held the wooden plank to her chest and cried on it.  
She lifted her head and looked at the fire. Chiara was burning away, leaving her _again. _She shook her head and cried more. No, why had she let them burn the only thing that was left of the girl? Why?  
Feliciano hugged her, "Chiara is not gone, you know. You have her on your wrist. She is in that piece of wood. That's why Grandpa and you and nobody's allowed to burn it. That's why you cut your hair, right? So you could keep her. She's not gone. Julia, she's watching over us."  
Julia hugged Feliciano tighter than she had ever hugged anyone before. She cried on him, he was tall now, and in a decent build. He was about the height Chiara had been. Feliciano went on about Ludwig and Chiara not being gone because she was there, he was there, their grandfathers were there, Lili and Basch were still around, and Uncle Toni. Julia was unable to say much, or make out much.  
The fire took a few hours to die out. Julia had sat by it and felt the warmth of it on her face. A few embers had flecked her face, but she did not care, she pretended they were kisses from Chiara. A particularly large one landed on her chin and she flinched, knowing her face would be pecked with red the next day. Good. She watched the fire, covering her face from the smoke, and managed to feel calm. She had not realized she had begun talking, as if Chiara really were beside her.  
"You know, you didn't have to burn these things. Giving them away would have been enough, but you always have to do things your way, you little diva. You say I am picky and stuck up, but my goodness do you have to do things your own way. And, I'm starting to think _you're _the one obsessed with knots. My hair, my laces… Lovina, what is it with you and knots? Eventually they come undone. Like us. We… we came undone. Knots aren't permanent, Lovina. Why did it have to be knots? You're so good at undoing them… Lovina…"  
"Not all knots come undone, Miss Julia."  
The Germanic girl turned, lifting her head to look at the older man.  
"No?"  
"No. The knot in a tree never comes undone. Even when the tree is cut down and turned to wood, the knot still shows through. That knot is forever."  
Julia blinked up at the fire, then she looked at the wood in her hands. There was a large mark of a knot on it. She looked back up at Romulus.  
"So, what kind of knot is my granddaughter to you?"  
Julia held up the wood plank.


End file.
